Sicero vs Cicatrix
by Brazi2
Summary: Ok this is a different version of Sicero. so ya i dunno sicero was me first newsies fanfic, so it aint that good.


Sicero vs. Cicatrix  
Footsteps were coming up the stairs. They sounded so loud that you'd think they'd wake up the whole city. It seemed like eternity until they reached the top. Finally the footsteps stopped at the top of the stairs. The door swung open and hit the wall so hard that it shook the whole room. The Manhattan lodging house never was the fanciest place in New York. "Boys, boys! What're you doing still asleep, you're late?!"  
Itey sat up in his bunk still tired from last night. "What're ya crazy? The sun aint' even up yet." He said sleepily, rubbing his eyes with his palms.  
Mr. Kloppman walked over to the window and opened the curtains. The sunlight shone in so fast that you saw blue and green spots. Groans came from the newsies. Some refused to get out of bed. "Are you going to get up or do I have to send you all to the refuge?" almost in an instant the sound of dragging feet stirred the room. He went to Bumlets bunk. "You kids are killing me! What am I supposed to do wit' ya, huh?" Now awake, he threw aside his covers and walked to the mirror, where Jack, Racetrack, and Kid Blink were talking.  
"Whatdya tink da headline's gonna be today Jack? Snyder Communicates With Rats?" Racetrack asks with a sarcastic look on his face.  
"Yea, shoi. And Mush finally becomes funny." Kid Blink laughes at his joke, unfortunately Mush overheard and started to walk calmly to him.  
"I should really soak ya fer dat one. But I'm gonna letcha off easy cus dats just da kinda guy I am." Mush slapped Kid Blink playfully on the cheek.  
"Speakin a soakin, I hoid dat one of da kids from Joisey City got beat up by Oscar and Morris last night. Got thrown in da refuge fer stealin food." Said Jack, remembering how being put in the refuge felt. At that time Crutchy was walkin past the four.  
"Just like you huh Jack? Pretty lucky dat Roosevelt got ya out. If dat were me in dere, I woulda completely stuck troo it all just so deyd get off me back, ya know? Just cus I'm a crip don' mean that dey let me off easy."  
"Yea dats right. Got no respect for nobody. If anyting da bums should be da ones bein thrown in da refuge." Jack hated the scabbers more than anyone.  
A little later that morning, the newsies lined up to get their papers.  
"What happened to ya this morning Jack? You didn't line up early like usual." Asked Mr. Weisel.  
"Yea well uh, I wasn't exactly on da ball dis mornin, weasel." Answered Jack while scanning through the newspaper. "Da usual."  
"Hundred for Jack!"  
As soon as he got his papers he sat down on the steps and read the articles. Boots sat next to Jack, setting fifty papers beside him. "Hey didja hea? Medda wants all da newsies to come by her place at seven tonight."  
"For what?" he said without looking up.  
"Who knows. Probly ta talk ta us bout da strike again. But whateva it is, I'm goin over dere. You can neva see enough a Medda, ya knows what I mean?"  
  
"Listen up, there's new news newsies!" exclaims Medda, excited from all that has been going on. "I'm proud to introduce a newsie from Delaware who used to sell newspapers right here in New York!" the room full of newsies mutters to each other about who she's talking about. "Hey Medda, don' leave us confused like dis'." called Racetrack from the crowd.  
She laughs to herself knowing that she has their attention. "Well, this newsie was an old friend of mine when she lived here. Ooh, I remember she could sell papers like they were candy, pretty handy with a slingshot too. I heard from her recently. She told me that she heard about the newsie's strike and is coming to Manhattan to help out with it. You know, she's the most famous newsie in Delaware, so you better treat her respectably." none of the newsies could tell that Medda was talking about a girl, being that everyone was chatting quietly with the person next to them. "Everyone, please welcome Scero!" the room filled with applause, but died as quickly as it came when no one came out from behind the curtains. The microphone made a squeal. "Uh, Sicero!" Medda repeated. A few seconds later a tall, skinny girl walked out casually from behind the curtains. Her hair was perfectly straight, brown and went down to her shoulders. A few boys whistled. She wore a plaid shirt with two of the top buttons unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, and suspenders that were flared just a bit so that they looked like clothes a girl would wear, and they were long enough so that they only covered half her shoes. The newsie boys gasped as she walked toward Medda.  
"Hey is dis' a joke?" some boys made comments. "Goils aint' newsies!" "What's goin' on ere?"  
As Sicero reached Medda, they hugged and laughed. "Hey tanks' for da introduction Medda. I'll take it from ere'." As Medda waved to the audience and walked off the stage, Sicero walked up to the microphone.  
"Heya boys, how you'se all doin'?" silence fell from the crowd, still in shock from the surprise. "What's da mattah', you nevah seen a goil before?" the room filled with laughter. "No! It's just dat' we've nevah seen a goil newsie before." Cried Boots.  
"Yea!" hollered Snipeshooter.  
"OK den', let's get stawted." Her brown eyes glittered from the  
lights shining in her face. "As Medda said, me name's Sicero. Back in  
Delaware, dey' called me Sis, but since I don' know you'se very well,  
keep callin' me Cicero." A few newsies muttered to themselves. Other  
than that everything was silent. Sicero thought, Boy what an  
enlightenin' crowd these bunch a goons are. If dey got even half a  
brain dey'd say som'n. "Does anybody got anyting dey'd like ta say?"  
"Yea, I got som'n ta say. Who do ya tink' ya are comin' ere' and claimin' ta be a newsie?" Kid Blink scowled from the balcony.  
"Ey' just because she aint' a guy don' mean she aint' a newsie." Answered Mush from a table.  
Cicero had a sly smile on her face. "Tanks' Mush."  
"How do ya know me name?"  
"What, ya tink' I don' ere' tings'? Everyone knows about da' New York newsies."  
Mush shrugged. Finally paying more attention now, Jack stood and walked toward the stage. He motioned for David to follow. As soon as he stood face to face with Sicero, he spit in his hand, held it out and said, "Welcome to New Yoik." Sicero did the same.  
"So you must be Jack Kelly, da one who's leadin' dis' whole strike."  
"Yea." Jack reached behind him and pulled David next to him. "And dis' is Davey, da brains behind da strike." She spit in her hand and waited for Davey to shake her hand. Although Davey thought it was disgusting, he followed.  
"I'll be stayin' at da Manhattan lodgin' house. I already stopped by and told Kloppmann. "Alright but uh, I don' tink' dat da guys are gonna appreciate a goil bein' dere'." "Don' worry about it. I'm gonna be stoppin' by Brooklyn to see the famous Spot Conlon I've been earin' about.  
"Well if you're gonna do dat' den don' make im' mad cus' e's got an ego da' size a Texas." Said Jack loudly so that everyone could hear. They started laughing and slapping each other playfully. Spot had left earlier to do a couple things.  
  
Later that evening, Sicero was walking a fast, easy stride down the street, cutting through the alleys through instinct. In Delaware, someone was either following or stalking her. She knew she had to be careful since no one's seen her in New York before. When she was sure that the crates hid her, she put her hands behind her head and slowed down, being lost in thought. I wondah what dis' Spot guy's like. Everyone's noives about im'. E' can't be dat' tough. Hoid dey' got some pretty good shootahs dere. Bet dey' can't shoot a ciga outa some bums mouth twenty yahds away. I wondah what I'm gonna do when I get dere. It's not like everyone from Brooklyn came ta Medda's tonight. Probly gonna knock me ova the docks soon as I pass em'. Don' exactly look like a lady eida. Oh well, dey'll know a newsie when deys see one. Cicero heard footsteps coming towards her. Immediately she turned around and put her fists up. She almost punched Racetrack right in the nose when she stopped her arm a few centimeters away from his face. His face looked horror struck, though you really couldn't tell in the night. She put her fists down.  
"Sorry didn' mean ta scare ya." Racetrack said, straightening himself up.  
"Me neidah."  
"Anyways, I'm Racetrack."  
"Yea, I saws ya at Medda's." they spit-shaked.  
"Listen uh, no offense er' anyting but what're ya really doin' ere huh? I know you'se said dat ya came to help us out wid da strike an all, but why?"  
She thought about whether she could trust him or not, then decided that they're all going to find out anyways. "I'm runnin."  
"Runnin, from who?"  
"This doity bastard who comes round Delaware every once in a while. Takes our money then beats us up."  
"But why'r you runnin?"  
"Cus. Last time he went dere, bout a month ago, I didn have no money so he beat me up and told me, 'Next time, I'm gonna kill ya. Don' tink I'm jokin' cus you knows I don joke. You'll be dead, ya hea me? D E D dead! Teach you punks a lesson.' Then he walked off, leaving me on da ground." She seemed to be lost in thought, remembering everything like a bad dream that came up on you with no warning.  
"Well tell me is name, we'll go down dere an soak im!"  
She sighed. "It won't do any good. E's toughah den ya tink."  
"Listen, you're in New York now, and hea we stick togeda." He grabbed her by the shoulders. "We won' let anybody hoit ya."  
Sicero brushed his hands away with a twist of her shoulder and stepped back. The time they were standing there was abiding. Racetrack started to get nervous and said the first thing he could think of.  
"So you're goin' ta Brooklyn to see Spot?" Sicero looked away and nodded. "E's not exactly da friendly type, ya know what I mean? Always da tough guy wid im'. Good luck gettin' troo ta im', I mean if his boys let ya pass widout beatin ya up foist."  
She looked back into his eyes. "Is e' really dat tough?"  
He laughed. "Are you'se kidden? He'll soak anyone for no reason at all if e's mad or if e' just feels like it."  
Sicero got a dangerous look on her face while still looking nice. "This'll be fun."  
"It's gettin' late. I'm goin back to da lodgin' house." Racetrack turned on his heel and started walking away. "Be back by ten or Kloppman will moida ya."  
She stared after him for a while thinking about what he said about Spot. "Cicatrix!" Racetrack stopped in the middle of a step and looked over his shoulder. "What?" He turned completely around. "Cicatrix, dat's his name." "Why da hell do they call im' Cicatooblashniglen..." he couldn't remember the name. Sicero laughed and started walking towards him so that she wouldn't have to yell. "It's a fancy name for scar. He has a cross shaped scar on is' left cheek. Got it while wrestlin da bulls. One a dem had a knife. Sliced im good."  
  
Ah so what if he clobbahs me. Not like it's nevah happened before. Maybe e's soft towads goils. Whadya tinkin ya bum, you can beat im no sweat. Sides, e probly won't hoit me if I knows what I'm doin. Oh boy I dunno what I'll do if Cicatrix finds me. I appreciate everyting Racetrack said but not even tagedah will e' back down. He's already killed his sista, Cicatrize. I gots no chance. Sicero finally reached the Brooklyn docks. She tucked her hair up in a bundle under her hat. Maybe dey won't notice I'm a goil. It's so dark dey won't even see half a me. Feeling more confident, she took a step forward, scanning the dark for movements. Satisfied, she walked on. She kept her ears sharp, trying to hear any sounds besides the sound of her feet and the water lapping against the rocks. She walked past Spot, not realizing he was there. He was sitting on a crate hidden in the shadows, one knee up. His eyes watching her carefully, all he could see was half of her legs. The rest of her body was cloaked in shadows. Cicero stopped abruptly and looked around her. Dey musta all went to da lodgin house. She walked to the edge of the docks and looked at the little of the sun that was left. A few seconds later, she heard the wood creak behind her. She turned around so fast that she wasn't quite ready for what she saw. There was Spot's face, just inches away from hers. It looked dark and dangerous. She was so surprised that she stepped back once and almost fell off. Her hat slipped off her head and tumbled to the water. She managed to get on both feet again. Her hair now down to her shoulders again, she threw it aside from her face with a flick of her head. She stared into Spot's eyes. "What're ya tryin ta do, scare me ta death?"  
Silence came from him. She tried to stare him down, her eyes twinkling from the moonlight. The sun was completely out of sight now, and darkness was swallowing the city. She realized that he was waiting for his eyes to adjust to the change of light. When they finally did, he spoke. "You must be Cicero, Slides told me boutcha." 


End file.
